This morning I was reading a book on Ecclesiastes entitled A Table in the Mist, by Jeffrey Meyers. I came across this paragraph:
"Modern Christmas seasons provide us with little more than sentimental, syrupy niceness and nice thoughts about a mistily-glowing baby Jesus. All we are left with is the commoditization of vague religious sentimentalism. There is no spiritual power in this. What’s worse, because of this the Christian faith seems, to many in our culture, little more than an attempt to stir up comforting religious feelings to mask one’s real troubles in the world. But this is so far removed from the Bible and genuine Christianity that it has to be considered another religion, one that plays make-believe with the dirty realities of this life." (p. vii)
I like the way Meyers expresses this. I do think that at times we want to somehow mask our real troubles in the world and sometimes do that through stirring up just the right mix of religious feelings. Unfortunately, far too often religious people have played "…make-believe with the dirty realities of this life."
Earlier, I was thinking about some of the conversations and interactions I have had with people this week. These remind me of some of the "dirty realities of this life."
- I did two funerals this week. Two different families. Two different life situations. Talking with families after a death, I am often reminded of the complexity of life.
- I spoke with several people this week about family issues. Good people trying to be a family to spouses, parents, in-laws, and their children.
- The wife of a good friend of mine is in ICU after a stroke this week. She is 48 years old. He waits and waits in the ICU waiting room.
- A young man and his wife are at M. D. Anderson where he battles cancer. He is in his early twenties. They have a new baby.
These are just a few of the "dirty realities of this life." I do not believe that faith means that we are dismissive about these realities or that we quickly trot out a one-liner that in some way is supposed to fix or take care of these situations. If anything, these kinds of behaviors on the part of Christian people, and in particular Christian leaders, have a way of shutting down any future honest conversation.
Far better to love people through all these difficulties, confusing moments, and even suffering. There is a time for conversation. Often, people in our lives just want to talk through these situations with someone they trust. Yes, sometimes, people want help as they grapple with what to say and do. There is also a time, however, to be silent and to simply be present with people.
I pray for the wisdom to know whether speaking or silence is the best kind of presence at any given moment.
Jim, What you have said here is so very important. The longer I live, and the more I experience, the more clearly I see how important it is to just be present for people. To let them know that, when the world seems to be crashing down around them, you are there as an affirming presence. People need a human representative of God during these times more than anything else.
I can empathize with the feelings you must have after such a week. Few things so focus my thoughts along the same seam your following as grieving with others in their loss. Pastoral ministry to the grieving is strangely fulfilling as the Holy Spirit works through us, yet it also calls us to the ‘the fellowship of His sufferings’. God draws so near in days like these that I’m not surprised when all of what I thought was real feels at least less than it was. Little wonder the prophets fell on their faces in His presence. It’s what I call a serious joy. God’s blessing on your ministry, especially to the families you mention, as well as for yours. I’m reminded again of John Donne’s poem, ‘Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee’.
Connie,I really like the way you expressed this:"People need a human representative of God during these times more than anything else." This is very good.
Jan,Thanks so much for these words. What you say about pastoral ministry is so true.